Time and Patience
by GoingVintage
Summary: He nods at her, trying not to think about the fact that he just heard Tina talking about how Rachel's been seeing some guy named Brolin or something, and his fists clench because, once again, he's still not the guy in her bed. He always assumed it would eventually be him, and every time she's kicked Finn to the curb, his hopes have risen a little. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: This fic is based _completely_ on two gifs circulating on Tumblr. And those stupid gifs made me have major Puckleberry feelings tonight. I haven't watched a single episode of S4 and I don't intend to start now. I merely cheated and read one review to see what happened...**

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Puck's hated weddings since he was 13 and his Ma married that asshole, Eddie. The marriage only lasted seven months, the guy was drunk most of the time, and then he ran off with a bartender who had apparently done more than just serve him drinks. Ma cried for six months straight, and it was like Dad had left all over again. So…yeah… fuck weddings. Sure, coming to watch Mr. Schue marry the weird ginger school counselor is _okay_, but suits make Puck uncomfortable and wearing one means he has to put on underwear for once, so his balls are already itching. _Seriously_, fuck weddings.

The only good part is seeing everybody again. He hasn't really talked to Santana since graduation (not that he's minded since her bitch level seems to increase each year) and it's nice to hang out with the old group again. Plus, he's got Jake now, and hanging with his little bro is always cool. Mercedes is back from LA, Brittany is still dumb as a post, and he still wants to punch Blaine between his bushy eyebrows. Puck smiles to himself because things feel _normal. _

Puck is standing in the corner vestibule of the church, trying to scratch his nuts without anybody noticing. He's reading a pamphlet about how Jesus is the answer to all his problems when Rachel breezes in. Puck freezes for a second, his heart beating like a drum inside his rib cage. Rachel's got these bangs now, which he's not sure he likes, but she's wearing this short red, lacy dress that clings to every fucking curve and shows off her killer legs. For a minute, he forgets to take a breath. Her skin is glowing, like she used some of that glitter lotion that his sister loves. She looks all golden and smooth and soft and his dick hardens instantly, which fucking sucks because it's trapped inside his underwear and practically begging to get free. Rachel bites her lip and looks around, then slides a lock of hair behind her ear. He immediately imagines those trim fingers wrapped around him, and he stifles a groan by pinching the tender skin on the inside of his elbow. Rachel waves at someone that Puck can't see because there's a door in the way, but her smile is free, open. He rarely saw her smile like that when she lived in Lima. She's been in New York for a while and he knows she's happy because moving there is all she's talked about since the first time he met her, which was in pre-school. _("Hi, my name is Rachel Berry and I'm four years old and I have two daddies and a cat named Periwinkle and someday, I'm going to live in New York City and be a famous Broadway singer. If you go get a crayon for me, I'll sign my autograph for you and then you can be the first person to ever have one! Hurry! Get a crayon! Oh, wait! Get a purple one! I love purple because purple's my favorite!")_

Smiling at the memory, Puck watches her waltz farther into the vestibule of the church. He drops the pamphlet, all thoughts of Jesus forgotten, and right when she turns toward him, he raises a hand to wave at her. She gives him a massive grin and starts to march in his direction when a little old lady, as wide as she is round, comes barging in yelling about people taking their seats and getting into place. Rachel shrugs, a smile upturning the corner of her lips, and mouths "later" to Puck before they head off to be where they're supposed to sit.

As far as weddings go, it's anything but typical. Emma freaks out, Sue takes over the show, a whole bunch of shit goes_ down. _In the end, there's no wedding at all because, as far as Puck can tell, Miss Pillsbury finally came to her goddamned senses and stopped herself from marrying a guy who's so whacked in his head that he thinks Finn's got more talent than anyone else in the entire world. (Puck doesn't want to hate on his friend, but _c'mon_. He's had a lot of time to think about everything that happened in Glee since graduation and as far as he can tell, Schue's a little bit gay for Finn. It's the only thing that makes sense and can only be the reason that Finn got to sing lead on 300 songs with Rachel in three years, while Puck only got one. _One_.)

In true Schue's-fucked-up-as-usual fashion, they have the stupid wedding reception anyway. Puck feels a whole lot better once he hears the phrase "open bar." He's got a beer in his hand in 90 seconds flat thanks to his fake ID. He takes a seat at at table in the corner, his eyes immediately finding Rachel in the crowd. He snorts to himself as he tips the bottle back and takes a deep pull. Rachel is dancing with Sam and Finn is hovering close by, his hands in his pockets. He's got that serious look on his face that means he's jealous and Puck wonders if Finn's going to somehow ruin this reception like he managed to ruined prom.

A minute later, Artie rolls up to his table and the two guys bump fists. Puck's happy as hell to see his old friend and he and Artie shoot the shit for a while, then Jake sits down and starts making out with Marley right at the table. After Puck makes some lewd comment about the two of them going at it on top of the wedding cake, Marley smacks him and then she pulls Jake with her up off his chair and out the door. It's as he's watching them walk away that he catches Rachel's eye again. She's on the dance floor and Blaine has his arms around her. They're swaying to a song Puck's never heard (because he refuses to listen to Top 40 crap since he finally got out of Glee) but she meets his gaze from across the room. She raises her hand and waggles her fingers at him.

He nods at her, trying not to think about the fact that he just heard Tina talking about how Rachel's been seeing some guy named Brolin or something, and his fists clench because, once again, he's _still_ not the guy in her bed. He always assumed it would eventually be him, and every time she's kicked Finn to the curb, his hopes have risen a little. Hell, even when he was still in LA and he heard about their latest split, the part of his heart that isn't black and damaged and cold from years of bullshit (the part that always feels close to Rachel) kind of started to speed up and beat really fast. Of course, he was on the other side of the country and there wasn't shit he could do about it, but he couldn't help but think about calling her up and asking her how she was. He even called her a few times, but ended the call before it could ring on her end of the country. She probably would've been all bubbly and shit when she picked up the phone. Things have always been easy between them and he doesn't think that's ever going to change. Maybe it's because she's usually on his mind (or at least tucked away in a little corner of it), but he feels connected to her, even when they're 2,500 miles apart. Still, he was afraid that if he called her right after she and Finn broke up, hearing her voice would make him blurt out something stupid. He knew then and he knows now that she would've shot him down. She still doesn't have Finn out of her system, even now, because he's seen the two of them shoot each other pathetic little glances all night.

The stupid reception pass slowly. If he were anywhere else, Puck would've left hours ago. He keeps waiting for Rachel to make her way toward him, but as the hours pass, he begins to realize that she's probably not going to. Finn's cornered her a few times and he's watched them like a hawk the whole time. He has a feeling they're gonna leave together because every time they talk, they stand a little bit closer than the time before. Rachel touches Finn on the arm a few times and when she tilts her head and blinks at him bashfully, Puck feels like punching something. Yeah, Finn's definitely going to leave with Rachel on his arm and Puck vows that he won't be there to see it. He pushes out of his chair and is headed toward the door when Sam grabs him by the arm and tells him that he can't leave until the bouquet is thrown. The last thing he wants to do is watch a crapload of flowers fly across the room, but he follows Sam anyway because it's easier than arguing.

Puck picks a spot close to the door and a little ways away from Rachel. As soon as this stupid shit is over with, he's gone. There's a bottle of JD with his name on it and he intends to take the edge off as soon as he gets home. When the bouquet finally goes flying, Puck is positive that Blaine is about to zip across the room to catch it. He'd pay a serious amount of cash to watch Blaine elbow an old lady in the head in order to catch the bouquet, but the flowers land in Rachel's arms. She ignores Blaine's whiny "oh, man!" and gives a dazzling, dreamy smile, hugging the flowers to her chest before turning to wave them in Blaine's face to taunt him. Puck watches as Rachel spins around with the flowers in her hands and then her gaze locks with his. "Noah," she shrieks as she runs toward him, "I caught the flowers!"

Puck barely has time to register that she's even barreling toward him before she's throwing herself into his arms, whacking him in the head with those damn flowers in the process. Still, he smiles and hugs her to him as she laughs in his ear. When she finally lets go of him, she kind of slides down his body until her feet touch the floor. He has to stop another groan because, _Jesus, _she feels so fucking incredible. He pinches her ass for good measure and she laughs, using the flowers to bop him on the side of the head. He's surprised when she takes his hand and says, "You look like you're ready to leave, but you can't leave! We haven't even had a chance to catch up!"

He lets himself be dragged over to a table, unwilling to even _try _to leave now. He has her full attention - _finally_ - and the fact is that this girl? He loves this girl. There's no other woman on the planet that matters as much as this one does. It's as fucked up as can be and it's probably not going anywhere in at least the next five years, but he still believes that someday, once she grows up a little more and _he _grows up a lot more, she'll get up to speed and figure out what he's known since the day he got his very own Rachel Berry autograph in purple Crayon: she's _gonna _be his girl. He may not be patient about a lot of things, but waiting for Rachel Berry to come around means he's got all the time in the world.


End file.
